courtesy of Gaping Void
Posts from July 2006
courtesy of Gaping Void
Just a quickie post before heading off to Delaware for the weekend. Saw the Pretenders last night with Rob Y. at Roseland Ballroom. All I'm sayin' is that I hope I can rock that hard when I am Chrissie Hynde's age. I have one more week of craziness and then I'm of to Hawaii -- who can tell me where to eat in Waikiki?
Last weekend I purchased an iPod nano to replace the antique 4G iPod I've had for years. I fell in love immediately; I could hardly believe that this teeny thing held the same amount of music as my old iPod, which suddenly seemed like a brick. We got along swimmingly for a few days, until my Nike+iPod kit arrived in the mail (I've been running so much, it seemed like a fun idea). I plugged it into my new nano and learned that I needed to update the software on it. Fine -- I had done this before, no problem. Alas, I was dreadfully wrong. Since then, all my music has been erased from my new nano and I get error messages galore. I've followed all the steps on iPod help to no avail. So today, I have a meeting smack next to the new Fifth Avenue Apple Store. I'll be at the Genius Bar this afternoon, laptop and nano in tow, keeping my fingers crossed. Wish me luck.
UPDATE: The Geniuses were able to help me out, so I think I'm ready to rock and roll. Will test it all out with a run later tonight!
Thanks to Mother Nature, Orbitz, and Continental, our trip to Maine was cancelled, which was quite a bummer. It was nice, however, to have a completely unscheduled weekend in the city, not to mention a three-day weekend. To make up for the trip, I ate lobster all weekend, starting with a lobster roll at Pearl Oyster Bar on Friday night with Katie and Greta, eggs with lobster and spinach for brunch on Sunday at Ditch Plains, and capped off with Savoy's lobster and clam bake last night. I also beat my personal record for running -- just over four miles! In between all that, I made it out to the beach -- just a quick trip, but super-relaxing, nonetheless. We're going to try to reschedule our Maine trip for a weekend in September.
Derek was kind enough to invite me to a barbecue on the deck of a yacht he had rented for his family to stay on while they visited New York. Between the ferry commute and the view, it almost made me consider living across the Hudson. But then I came back to my senses.
Am off to Maine tonight with Greta and the Lovely Miss Katie -- our goal is to have as much lobster as humanly possible. Have a great weekend, everyone!
Scene: A crowded, unairconditioned subway, drenched (from the torrential downpour and from sweat) on the way home from the Philharmonic concert in Central Park (thanks, Teddi, for organizing!). I am with Gabe, a friend. We're chatting the whole way about this, that and the other thing. We're both standing for a chunk of the trip downtown, and when a seat opens up, he offers it to me. We continue to chat, but he squats down so that it's easier for us to hear each other. He departs at 14th Street and I continue on.
The woman sitting next to me turns to me and says, "I know it's none of my business, but that guys is totally into you." "Really?" I laugh. "I don't think so." "Why not?" she asks. "Well, when I met him a few years back, we went out on what I thought was a date, but at the end of it, it was very clear that he didn't think it was. We reached a subway stop and he said, 'This is my stop. Which way are you going?'" She paused for a minute, and then replied. "I still think he's into you. After a few drinks you should lure him into a dark alley and shove your tongue down his throat." "I'll certainly keep that plan in mind."
And on a completely unrelated note -- I barely took any pictures this weekend, but here are the few I took.
I was reading "The Taming of the Slur," a recent article in the New York Times about the use of the word slut -- essentially how it was overused to the point that it really didn't mean so much these days. The article was very interesting, but I read one statistic in it that nearly made me spit out my coffee:
"According to a government report released last year ("Sexual Behavior and Selected Health Measures"), men age 30 to 44 have had a median of six to eight sexual partners in their lifetimes. The women's median was about four." I am making no personal comments on this one, but let's just say that this provided great conversation fodder at the beach this past weekend. Another hot topic was "Fantasy Fuck Island" -- if you were stranded with three celebrities on an island, who would they be? I selcted (at least for the time being) Ed Burns,
Ed Norton Jake Gyllenhaal*, and Jamie Oliver. Who would be on yours?
* With a nod to La Depressionada, who makes a valid point below. I think my boyfriend Jake would do the trick (and apparently he is set to change the image of hip male Jews everywhere. I'll say.).
This morning, in my pre-caffeine fog, I found myself standing next to someone in my office cafeteria. "You look familiar," he said. Well, yeah, I thought to myself. We work in the same office. It's big, but not that big. "Do you write for Gothamist?" "Yes!" I replied. We introduced ourselves and I went on my merry way, but it was fun to be recognized.
Just got home from a rockin' good time at the Ozomatli show at Irving Plaza where I danced up a storm with Katie and Rob Y. Also ran into Romy and David B., both of whom I hadn't seen in way too long. The cameraphone shot barely does it justice, but this is the part at the end where they got the whole crowd to kneel down while they were smack in the middle (we were in the balcony).
Tomorrow night is a wine dinner -- let's just say I hope it's not quite as damaging as the last one (four women, six bottles of wine).
How I adore the sound of your voice. Sigh. Saw him with Allen Toussaint last night at the Beacon. In addition to hearing some of my favorites like "Deep Dark Truthful Mirror," and "Watching the Detectives," he did a rockin' version of "I Don't Want to Go to Chelsea" with a very cool brass arrangement, and they did a version of Paul Simon's "American Tune" that was absolutely beautiful. Hope I can get a recording of that at some point. Thanks to Sarah for being my date for the evening!
I was telling Augie that I wanted to write a post about online dating. "Before you do that," he said, "do a search on your blog for 'online dating.'" So I did. But this post is different (so there). Although I truly believe that it is highly unlikely that I'll end up with someone that I met through online dating, I still put my profile back online. Why? Well, on the positive side, you do end up meeting people you wouldn't meet ordinarily, which is a good thing, and going on dates helps you stay in the game, at least mentally. On the negative side, since the last time my profile was up, I turned 35. There's something about 35 -- I think many people use it as a cutoff point. Suddenly, I'm getting emails from guys who are closer to my dad's age than mine -- absolutely disgusting (no offense, dad -- you're not disgusting).
And if that wasn't enough, I recently had the experience of having my entire profile ripped off. Some guy emailed me recently saying how much we had in common, and giving a few examples. His profile was still "being reviewed by Customer Care" so I couldn't see it, but when I checked back a few days later, his profile was up. It was, word for word with a few minor tweaks, EXACTLY what I had written in my profile. I sent him an email calling him on it. His response? "Yes, I took the parts of your profile that worked for me as well. I was having a problem figuring out what to say and you covered it very nicely." Well, gee thanks. So then it boils down to this: Apparently this guy and I have so much in common that I was able to give words to his personality without even meeting him, but he's slimy enough to rip off someone's profile. Date, or no date?
This is just another example of why I'm fairly confident that I won't be meeting my boyfriend/husband online, but a girl's gotta keep her bases covered, so the profile stays up, at least for now.